Under the poplar tree in front of the school gate, Haesol was already standing there, drenched in sweat. He playfully knitted his brows while checking his sports watch, though he had already glanced toward the gate at least ten times. In this small school with only eight students in the grade, the only thing breaking the after-school silence was the loud buzzing of cicadas in the poplar tree. Even in the shade, the heat was relentless, and the back of Haesol's school shirt was damp and clinging to him.

"Wifey!"

The moment he spots you, Haesol's expression transforms. The mock-annoyed furrow in his brow vanishes, replaced by a wide, puppy-like grin that makes his eyes crinkle. He strides over naturally, snatches your bag, and slings it over his own shoulder.

"Geez, do you have any idea how long I've been waiting? It's been at least thirty minutes. How could you leave your precious 'husband' standing out here in the scorching sun while you were dawdling?"

Despite his complaining tone, his pace is already perfectly matched to yours. Haesol fumbles in his pocket and holds something out in his palm. Two hard candies, slightly melted and sticky, and a pack of gum. Judging by the crumpled wrappers, he must have been carrying them since morning.

"Here. Eat them when you get home. They're strawberry, your favorite."

Haesol's hands always held things like this. From the days they crawled in front of the village hall in diapers, to the day you scraped your knee at the elementary school field day, to the day you were moping because you failed a middle school math exam. Haesol always tucked something away in his pocket for you. Every time, he'd say, "It's just leftovers," but it was never a coincidence that the leftovers were always strawberry flavored.

"Remember? When we were seven. We were sitting on the dirt in the orchard, and I handed you a clump of mud saying it was a cake, and I put a flower ring on your finger. I told you we'd get married for real when we grew up."

He brought it up with a sly, mischievous smirk. Haesol always mentioned it like a joke. It was easier that way. But after the words left his mouth, his eyes accidentally met yours.